


The Bard Has Our Hearts In Her Hands

by bardlingb



Series: gift fics! [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC) Spoilers, Canon Universe, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Protectiveness, Rare Pairings, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bardlingb/pseuds/bardlingb
Summary: Priscilla, Dettlaff, and Regis having a soft lazy morning, reminiscing on how they met...
Relationships: Detlaff van der Eretein/Priscilla (Witcher), Dettlaff van der Eretein/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Priscilla (Witcher), Jaskier | Dandelion & Priscilla, background Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion - Relationship
Series: gift fics! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175300
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	The Bard Has Our Hearts In Her Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gryphonheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryphonheart/gifts).



> This beautiful story is written for the sweet @gryphonheart - thank you for blessing my inbox everyday with your rare pairs you sweet thing. You (and this pairing) have my heart <3

Priscilla rolls over and buries her face into a warm hairy chest - the rumble of a chuckle echoes her sleepy groan. She didn’t have to open her eyes to figure out it’s too early to be awake on a weekend. There are fingers running through her hair and over her back now that they know she’s awake. She buries her face further into the chest trying her damndest to block out the light and fall back to sleep but she knows that probably wasn’t going to happen.

She blearily lifts her head at the sound of soft footfalls walking through the door to the bedroom accompanied by the smell of coffee. Sitting up against the headboard, she first leans down to kiss the owner of the lovely chest she was using as a pillow, then leant up to kiss the one climbing into bed with her coffee. She couldn’t be bothered to open her eyes just yet, taking the coffee and sipping it slowly - thanking the gods for the lovely roast and for the two beautiful men that she was in bed with this morning.

Regis leans over her to kiss Dettlaff, the latter still blinking sleepily as he curls around their beautiful lady. She is radiating warmth and happiness as she gets closer to the bottom of her drink - her smell is addicting, reminds the vampires just how precious she is and just how lucky that she was theirs. They fell in love with her at the first sight of her, and has been falling hard ever since.

* * *

Walking into the Kingfisher Inn is an attack on the senses for the three that had just entered; every member of the audience is either crying or close to it, emotions thick listening to the beauty on stage. She was enchanting - her long blond hair fell over her shoulders like waves, shimmering softly in the spotlight; her long beautiful fingers racing over the fretboard of the lute in her hands as if by magic; her voice a siren’s song. Regis and Dettlaff are captivated - they pause just inside the door, not daring to even blink just in case this mesmerizing display was just a trick of the eye. 

Geralt huffs a laugh at the two, ignoring the display on stage and walking over to the reserved table that Dandelion was sitting at. Dandelion greeted Geralt warmly but didn’t take his eyes off the performance - no matter just how many times he has seen it, Priscilla is a spectacle to watch. As her performance comes to an end, the crowd erupts in roaring applause, shaking the two vampires from their trance and they finally make their way over to greet their host gratefully, occasionally looking back to see the goddess that had them wrapped around her lithe fingers. 

Dandelion stands to hug the two - Dettlaff stiffens at the contact, still wary of humans and their trust after the events of Toussaint. The poet had been a great help at the time; plying Annarietta with sweet words to cajole her into freeing Geralt from jail after Dettlaff’s mistake, offering his service as a cabaret owner and giving them some place to stay while they got their feet back under them after fleeing Toussaint. When he pulls back from the hug, Dandelion’s eyes are shining with amusement, staring at a space over Dettlaff’s shoulder. He can smell her, the performer’s beautiful musk of sweat and perfume, feel her presence as she makes her way around the table to hug the poet and the witcher. 

Regis and Dettlaff shuffle nervously, unsure whether they should introduce themselves or wait for one of the other two to do so - the decision is made for the when Priscilla turns to the and claps her hands together, speaking over her shoulder to Dandelion while eyeing the new additions to the table. ‘Now who would these two lovely gentlemen be, Dandy?’ her voice sings to them as if they were hearing the most beautiful sound they had ever heard in their extremely long lives. ‘Uh that would be Dettlaff Van Der Eretein, and Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy - but Dettlaff and Regis are fine. They’re friends from Toussaint, Pris,’ Dandelion speaks as if introducing nobility, with flair and importance. The two bow at their introductions and she giggles softly.

Dettlaff is the first to pick up enough courage to move forward to her, taking her hand and bowing to land a kiss on her knuckles, ‘M’lady, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your performance was captivating’. Priscilla’s face heats up and her giggles get a little more out of control, she was charmed by the sweet man - his dark eyes, his chiseled cheeks, his mysterious aura, all screamed at her to get to know him, to dive deeper and find out more.

Regis bumped Dettlaff out of the way with his hip before doing the same, a kiss to the knuckles before reintroducing himself, ‘It is lovely to finally meet you, sweet Priscilla. I’ve heard lots about you! I am an old friend of Geralt and Dandelion’s, so I’m glad to finally put a face to the name’. She is charmed by the sweet smile that Regis is sporting, his soft presence calms her for some reason. She is intrigued by his character - his grey sideburns and smell of herbs pull her in and make her want to know everything about him. She has all these thoughts very quickly before the name reminds her of something.

‘You wouldn’t happen to be the Regis from Dandelion’s book, Biography of the Vampire Regis, would you?’ she has lowered her voice significantly to ask this, wary of the crowd around her. She sees him stiffen and blush, a small nod confirming her suspicions. He hurries to assure her, ‘Not that it’s common knowledge, m’lady - I am in fact but you needn't worry you are in no danger. I would also ask politely for your discretion’. He says the last part with a glare to the poet and author that is listening in, his grin widening cheekily at the stare. She assures him with a wink that his secret is safe and they finally shuffle around to all sit at the table comfortably - with the witcher and two vampires on one bench, and the two poets opposite.

A waitress comes over with a tray full of ales, previously organised by Dandelion and they settle in for a light conversation - what has happened since the Night of the Long Fangs, what ballads the bards had been creating, old stories of times when the three were in Geralt’s hanse. They talked all night, until Geralt confessed to wanting to retire for the night, inviting Dandelion to come back with him. Priscilla however was hooked; leaning in to every word the two vampires had to say. She confessed to wanting to know more about vampires, so she invited them back up to her room for more drinks.

They were more than happy to spend more time with her, shooing away the witcher and his bard as they followed them up the stairs to her room. She was playing coy; she really did want to learn more about their species, about the difference between higher vampires and lower subspecies, like the one that had attacked her, but she was also hoping to talk them both into staying the night - her attraction to both was almost consuming. As she led the two up the stairs, they were eyeing each other - communicating through the blood bond that they shared, their attraction to her and their willingness to share her. They could smell her attraction, and as they got closer to her room her arousal.

The conversation did not last very long, the alcohol getting to her enough to confess her attraction to them both. But they were gentlemen, refusing to take advantage of her in this state so they talked, staying long enough for Priscilla to fall asleep on them. Regis tucked her into bed whilst Dettlaff left a note telling her where they were staying and their willingness to try and test out whatever was going on between the three but for the time being they left her there to sleep, locking the door and misting their way back to  The Chameleon .

* * *

That night was years ago now, their relationship a long and arduous journey to get where it was now - with missteps and insecurities, mistakes and confessions. They have been through every obstacle thrown at them and are still wholly and unconditionally in love with each other. 

When Priscilla finally puts her empty coffee mug down she rolls over to lay completely on Dettlaff, chest to chest. His rumbling laugh vibrates through her and warms her from the inside as she leans into his neck covering it in kisses and tiny love bites. If she was to look beside her she would see Regis staring down at her with all the love and devotion has for her plainly written on his face, however Dettlaff can see and he pushes the same emotions back through the bond - his feeling for both the bard and the barber surgeon. 

When Priscilla’s bites get slower and she starts making her way down his chest, Dettlaff stills her with a hand on each of her hips. He brings her face up for a kiss, brushing her frown away from her face with light fingers before he buries them in her hair. He would love to ravish her himself, but Regis and himself had plans today for her - to spoil her rotten and to take her apart slowly. She had to be patient. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The tags will be updated with the next chapter + will earn its explicit rating. Until then enjoy...


End file.
